Daimons

This was the third day in a row that Draco had knocked on his godfather’s door. It was also the third day in a row that the Daimon answered it. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to bother my husband?” Armstrong growled.

“Not really sir.” If Armstrong were listening, he would have heard how defeated the boy was. “Will the Professor be able to see me in the near future?”

“He had a rough four days, but seems to be making progress. If you come back in a day or two he may be able to see you then.”

Draco could hear ‘beat it’ without the Daimon saying the words. “Thank you sir, I’ll try back later.”

“You do that.” If Armstrong had watched the boy walk down the steps, instead of turning his back, he would have seen Draco miss the last step and fall on his face. With a bloody nose and a dirty robe, he pulled himself up and staggered back to the castle, every bit of fight gone. The fire and arrogance that Draco was known for were absent. Dumbledore tried in vain to talk to the young wizard but he knew the Slytherins didn’t trust him. It was true he favored his Gryffindors, but he always tried to help those in need, as he did for Severus so many years before.

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In the event of Draco needing to escape from the wizard world, either from Voldemort or from the Aurors, Narcissa had started a small savings account in muggle London for her son. He couldn’t stay at Hogwarts any longer, not as long as Ron was there. His father would never let him transfer to another wizard school. He could hear his father’s voice: “I graduated from Hogwarts and so shall my son. Discussion closed.” ‘Discussion closed’. How many times had he heard those words? A hundred? A thousand? No, there was no talking to his father. There never would be. His mother was as loving and supportive she could be without being smacked, or worse, hexed. She tried once, to protect him, and found herself in St Mungo’s for a week. No, he would start his life over in a different world where nothing would remind him of his love… of Ron.

He held his wand, as if it was the most precious thing he owned. In his chest, at the foot of his bed, were his broom and his neatly folded robes. He swished his wand one last time before laying it gently on top. When he lowered the lid he heard the lock click. In this new world he was venturing into he would have no use for such things. Millions of humans lived without magic. If they could he certainly could. At least, he hoped so. Throwing his knapsack over his shoulder, he looked about the room one last time. He sighed. He bit down on his lower lip and told himself he would not cry. That was his mantra as he walked through the halls of Hogwarts one more time. When the residents of the castle woke, he would be well on his way to London. Once there he could easily get lost in the crowd. As long as he refrained from using magic, no one would be able to locate him, which was fine with him.

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“Crap,” was the first words that came out Hermione’s mouth in the morning. It was a quarter to four and Harry and she were to be at the Quidditch field in fifteen minutes. Gavin had started Harry’s physical training a few days before and he was already as good as, if not better than, she was. This, of course, annoyed the hell out of her and gave her knew resolve. She ran her fingers through her short hair and shrugged. There was little she could do with it. After she washed her face, she dashed out her room only to meet up with a yawning Harry in the common room.

“Was waiting for you,” he said between yawns. “We’re going to be late.”

“Not if we run.” She took off leaving Harry standing.

A moment later she heard a sniggering form behind as Harry caught up with her. “Race?”

“Yeah.” She took off with Harry close on her heels.

By the time they got to the Quidditch Pitch, they could barely breathe from laughing so hard. Gavin was amused but kept a straight face. Harry and Hermione were surprised that there was at least three or four dozen Daimons waiting for them.

“Sleep well?” Gavin inquired.

“Yes thank you. What’s going on?” Hermione asked, looking about at the crowd.

“We’re going to have a small, five hour run through the Forbidden Forest. These are for you.” He gave both Harry and Hermione a small, moon shape medallion to be hung about the neck. “Porkeys in case you get lost or find yourself in danger.”

“Why?” Harry asked. He was not excited about going into the forest, not after the first year.

“Endurance, stretching your limits, adventure. All good experiences to have.”

“It’s pitch black in there.” Hermione cocked her head and stared into the emptiness.

“Where would the fun be if it were easy?” Gavin stepped close to his girlfriend. “Believe me, Hermione, I wouldn’t put you in any danger. There will be sixty Daimons in the forest with you, including me. If we, for some unknown reason, can’t help you, touch the medallion and you will find yourself back here on the pitch.” He stroked her cheek lovingly. Stepping away he added, “Both of you must push yourself. Failing is not a sin, not trying is.”

Pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside Gavin took off in a trot, speeding up as he disappeared into the dark of the forest.

“Hermione, we’ve never backed down a challenge before, and I won’t mind seeing how much my body can endure. After you.” Harry made a sweeping motion with his arm, an offer for Hermione to go first.

“Gee, thanks,” she replied sarcastically as she started her run into the forest. She turned around and was running backwards as she spoke to her running companion, “You better stay close, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear bossy.” He took off past her. She followed close behind as they disappeared into the Forbidden Forest.

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Armstrong sat straight up from a sound sleep, his heart pounding. His men were in danger. By what or by whom, he had no idea but he had to help. With nothing but a pair of briefs on he took off to find the disturbance. Unbeknownst to Arm, an old, busybody of a Headmaster was awoken in the same manner. His children were in danger. Dressed only in his garish purple and yellow nightgown, he transported himself to the edge of the forest.

“Headmaster,” Arm acknowledged. “You felt it too?”

“Yes. Can you smell it?”

“All I can smell is the sweet smell of Jasmine.”

“It’s not Jasmine but Zasmine.”

“Sir?”

“A subtle difference yes, but a deadly one,” Albus continued. “The fragrance lulls its victims into a pleasant sleep. The delicate fragrance starts it dirty work by slowing the body down until the body functions stop. If it victim is close enough to the tentacles of the plant, it will suck all the blood form its victim.”

The Daimon leader started to go in after his men when a surprisingly strong hand stopped him. “It would be suicide if you enter. We must find another way.”

“Like what?”

“Let me think.”

“Think fast, or I’m going in after them.”

“The Zasmine is a night blooming flower. The aroma dissipates at dawn, perhaps a strong luminous spell.”

“We are both powerful wizards, but I doubt that either one of us has that much power. Even together. The one person who has that much power is in the mist of the Zasmine.”

Albus arched his eyebrows.

“Don’t look so surprised. I felt his power the moment I met him. He’s young and his power will overwhelm him if he isn’t properly trained. You need us to train him more than you need us to fight Voldemort. When we’re done, he’ll be able to fight a legion of Voldemort’s men.”

“First we have to get him out of the forest. Dawn should be rising in a few minutes.” Albus looked to the east and saw the blackness of night lighten slightly to midnight blue. “Between the two of us we should be able to last long enough for the sun to rise.”

“The three of us,” Severus’ baritone rang through the night air.

“Severus you’re not well enough,” Arm argued.

“The hell I’m not,” Severus said as he brushed past his husband.

“I insist,” Armstrong snarled.

Severus’ eyes pleaded with his husband. “You promised me that I would be useful. Let me be of some value.”

“Armstrong, you can’t keep him a prisoner. He was once and it almost killed him.”

“Fine, but back to bed with you when we’re done.”

“Agreed.”

“And Del gets to check you over.”

“Armstrong!”

“No arguing,” Arm commanded.

“Fine. Arsehole,” Severus muttered.

Standing side by side, hand in hand, the three of the most powerful wizards alive cast as powerful a luminos that they could. All of Scotland saw the glow that rose in the sky. In the weeks to come there were many theories of what the lights were but none that the authorities would admit to.

Severus watched the horizon as the color went from midnight blue to the early morning grey. The three wizards continued the spell till the sun was above the horizon and the scent of the Zasmine had disappeared. They only broke hands when the first of the Daimons appeared from the forest. Drained and weak Albus fell to his knees. The Headmaster looked up from where he knelt and asked in a feeble voice, “The children?”

“No, Albus they haven’t appeared yet.” His legs and arms were like lead as he leaned over to help Albus up from the ground.

Armstrong counted each warrior as the exited from the forest and gave a sigh of relief when all were counted for. Gavin was the last of his men that appeared. There was some heavy coughing and even a few who vomited, but the effects of the Zasmine would wear off and the Daimons would be back to normal.

“Gavin, Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter?”

Gavin spied the crowd looking for his beloved. “I thought they used the portkey. I had everyone out… at least I thought I did.” He turned to return to the forest to search for his girlfriend. Armstrong blocked the youth’s path.

“I’ll go and search for them.” He thought it best that he and not Gavin should be the one to look for the children. “You can take Severus home and see that he doesn’t leave.” Arm ordered.

Severus knew what his husband was doing. It was he who was to baby sit Gavin and not the other way around. He had been left out of the loop for the last couple of weeks but the relationship between Gavin and Hermione was the buzz of the community. “Headmaster, would you like Gavin and I to help you back to the castle.” Dumbledore looked very much his age, at the moment, and Severus wasn’t sure he could make it back unassisted.

“I should stay and wait.” He leaned against a tree for support. Gavin transformed a rock into a chair for the old man. Albus barely settled in the chair when the crowd gave a hoot and a holler as two very filthy young people came out of the forest laughing.

Harry and Hermione looked at the large crowd and the concerned looks on their faces. Her own smile faded. “What wrong?” was all she could ask.

“How did you survive?”

“What? You mean the Zasmine?”

“Yes. We thought you dead.”

“You did?” Hermione asked. “We thought it was a part of our training. We thought of using the portkey but we didn't want to look like scardy-cats.”

“It was Hermione that detected the Zasmine,” Harry continued. “We both remembered from Potions class that the scent seeped through the skin and the sinuses.”

“So we dug our selves a shallow hole and buried ourselves in the dirt,” Hermione continued.

“I found some hollow reeds by the lake and we used them to breathe through our mouth as we lay beneath the dirt,” Harry added.

“We knew that the sun was going to rise in about twenty minutes so we took turns counting,” Hermione took over when Harry took a breath.

“Each of us slowly counted to three hundred. Then we squeezed the other's hand and then they took over the counting,” Harry added excitedly.

“After we both counted twice we dug ourselves out. Voila!” she finished as she tossed her arms in the air.

“Maybe,” Armstrong said slowly, “my warriors should be taking lessons from these two.”

Albus, a little dumbfounded, said, “Indeed.” He smiled at the two. “I’m very proud of the two of you. You showed ingenuity that I thought was past your years. It does my old heart good to know that when I go to the next great adventure that the Wizarding World will have the likes of you two to guide it.”

“That day is a long way off sir.” Harry helped the elderly wizard from his chair.

“I’m not planning to go anywhere soon.” He patted Harry’s cheek fondly. “I do think a warm shower and a good hardy breakfast is called for, don’t you?”

“I’m starved,” Hermione and Harry said at the same time.

“Armstrong, would your men like to dine with us?”

The Daimons were licking there lips. “I don’t know if they earned a decent meal,” he teased. “All right, go eat your fill.” He waved his men on to the castle.

As the others went to breakfast, Gavin stayed behind and pulled Hermione behind a tree. For a moment he stared at her face as if he hadn’t ever seen her before.

“Gavin, I’m filthy.”

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” He pulled her towards him. “May I?” He leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “I know we aren’t supposed to kiss till the courtship but when I thought I may have lost you, I realized how much you mean to me.” He kissed her again. She leaned into the kiss.

When they came up for air, she smiled sweetly. “I’m not going anywhere.” She looked into his blue eyes and invited, “Would you like to start the ‘questioning’ tonight?” Much like twenty questions, these were simple questions, like what’s your favorite food, or your favorite color.

“Can we have a candlelit dinner first?”

“I believe I can arrange that.”

“I believe you could do anything you put your mind to.” He kissed her again.

Wiping the sides of her lips, she said, “I think we should join the others.” They walked silently, each in their own thoughts, thinking of the other.

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